


To Dream of Gods and Goddesses

by killthwight



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Angst, F/M, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-16
Updated: 2011-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:44:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killthwight/pseuds/killthwight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in•cu•bus – noun<br/>1. an imaginary demon or evil spirit supposed to descend upon sleeping persons, especially one fabled to have sexual intercourse with women during their sleep;<br/>2. a nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Dream of Gods and Goddesses

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Blue & Black](http://community.livejournal.com/bulmavegeta/)'s oneshot challenge # 25, theme "Nightmare".

She does not know how this started, exactly; it is obvious that it did, but she forgets. In truth, she tries to forget all of it when they are not covered by darkness.

But it is dark now and she knows it is him when she wakes up and feels a warm hand slowly run up her naked calf, squeezing the muscles before running up to her knee, only stopping when it reaches her upper thigh, thumb hovering over the cotton of her underwear. She sighs and feels the weight shift on her mattress, knees parting her legs and as soon as she can reach she wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his neck as she feels the heavy weight of his hardness against her hip.

At night Bulma never calls him by his name.

During the day it is another matter altogether. Bulma curses Vegeta left and right, calling him all the names she knows and some that she makes up. In truth she tries to ignore him—not that she has to go out of her way to avoid him, what with their schedules of either being locked away in the Gravity Room or the Engineering Lab. But when they bump into each other there is always a reason to be angry. Maybe it is a way to pretend she does not know what he sounds like when he moans or what his skin feels like when he shivers. Or maybe it is because Vegeta is simply an infuriating jackass.

She hates the guilt she feels when Yamcha stops by Capslue Corp. It’s especially painful knowing she goes out of her way to meet him in other places, that she purposefully avoids bringing him back home, that she stopped having sex with him on her bed. She tells herself it is only normal, that it was unhealthy to conduct a relationship solely under her parents’ noses. Bulma refuses to acknowledge these excuses for what they are, especially when she crosses the lawn with Yamcha in tow and Vegeta catches her eye. He doesn’t even smirk, the bastard, and that makes it so much worse.

However much she might tell herself it is a mistake, that she is throwing away something positive she has spent ten years building, Bulma is incapable of stopping it. She even notices, horrified, that she has come to wonder every night if she will be visited by the figure that came right out of a nightmare.

When he is there, this man that haunts her waking hours, she feels wickedly strong. She straddles his hips and is filled by him, her back arching as she moves, her knees pressing against his sides. Here she feels as powerful as him, just as independent and merciless, and the idea is intoxicating. She gasps as his hands grasp at her hips, fingers digging into her skin, and as he starts thrusting under her she throws her head back and moans. It is liberating in ways she had never known existed and when it is over, skins slick with sweat and breathing heavy, she isn’t sorry.

With time she starts noticing changes in their habits. He used to come to her when it was almost morning, figure shaking with frustration and hatred, and he would leave as soon as it was over. She was a mess back then, angry at him and the world. But as the weeks go by she notices he appears earlier, until one night she barely switches off her reading light and he is already there, hungry mouth claiming hers. She wonders if this is as addictive to him as it is to her, wonders if he gets high on it as much as she does.

Another night he surprises her by nudging her legs open but instead of moving upwards along her body he moves downwards, licking her between her folds. He is clearly inexperienced in this, but he reads her cues as she writhes and groans and she holds onto his hair. Her climax is so powerful it lingers and she is still lightheaded when he kisses her demandingly, his cheeks and chin still covered in her juices and her scent. At that moment she feels like she could be sovereign of the universe.

He stays with her afterwards longer and longer, letting her explore his scars with her fingertips. Once he is so exhausted that he even allows her to touch the place where his tail used to be; she wishes she could ask him if it still hurts. And then the morning when she wakes up with the sunlight invading her room and he is still there, visible and looking down at her, Bulma knows he will no longer be her incubus and that it is time to face her lies.


End file.
